


Sacrifice

by baeberiibungh



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Established Relationship, M/M, Sacrifice, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 21:54:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14860977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeberiibungh/pseuds/baeberiibungh
Summary: Derek and Stiles give themselves up for the greater good…





	Sacrifice

There is no ceremonial garb for the occasion. Derek wears his jeans as does Stiles and nothing else. Both of their bodies are painted in intricate symbols with an ashy texture and those stand stark against their skin. The nemeton stands behind them and the rest of the pack, solemn and serious, eyes hard and body still look on with barely suppressed fear. Scott is almost crying, his eyes swimming wetly and Boyd is clenching so hard that he might have broken a teeth by now if not for the werewolf healing. Erica stands with one hand around Boyd’s arm and the other clasped around Isaac’s lightly sweaty hand. 

Deaton stands in between the pack and the couple, his ceremonial garbs of dark purple looking austere and stately. Gold trims through the edges of the robe and symbols of the emissary sewn into the fabric itself proclaiming both his status and his due. His usual cryptic smile is missing and he too looks serious. 

Stiles and Derek hold hands, and with a bright smile from Stiles and an aborted attempt at a bow from Derek, both turn around and climb the base of the nemeton stump. In the exact middle of the still living stump now grows a new sapling, leaves soft green shooting out of the old stump, shivering in a windless air. Stiles and Derek settle on the stump, holding both hands now as they sit around the small sapling that seem to grow almost luminescent. Stiles hears Scott let out a sob then, quickly smothered by a hand perhaps or his face shoved into a sympathetic shoulder. Stiles’ own smiles falter but his determination does not.

Deaton does one circuit around the stump, throwing a mix of water and wood chippings and dried blood and then reaches his position again. This time he steps forward and pulls out two dagger from the folds of his cloak. One looks shiny and wet, coated with a thin sheen of wolfsbane. The other is clean and sparkling under the bright night of the full moon. Deaton presents the one without wolfsbane to Stiles first who accepts it with a slight bow. Derek takes the other. Deaton steps nearer to Derek and pulls out a small medical stent and lies it within Derek’s quick reach. Duty done, Deaton steps back and crosses his hands before him.

Stiles looks up at Derek then, his gaze warm and his heart calm. Derek too looks at him, eyes fixed and intense and all Stiles is feel is the love. Stiles picks up the dagger then and slashes a round in the stump wood around the sapling. Derek does the same but in the opposite direction. Then both places the tip of the dagger on the tip of the wrist and do not break eye contact as they push in at the same moment, drowning the little sapling in their blood. Both cut deep and Stiles wonder what his father will say when he sees his hand, after. Stiles hopes his dad doesn’t cry.

“You may begin,” Deaton and Peter utter at the same instant and Derek immediately puts the stent into his wrist to keep the gash on his wrist open and drip onto the sapling.

“I, Derek Hale, werewolf, Alpha of the Hale pack and guardian of the allotted Hale land hereby give you the blood from my veins and the worth of my words and my strength as a werewolf as I promise to always strive for the right and the just, the natural over the artificial and the good over the evil. By the blood of the moon, by the names of my forefathers, by my children yet to come, I stand true forever.” Derek voice rings out with authority in the silence and the air almost seem to be benevolent as it flows through the jungle, again, without moving anything but the sapling drenched in blood

“I, Mieczyslaw ‘Stiles’ Stilinsk, Spark, mate to the Hale Alpha, Pack of the Hale Pack and guard of the allotted Hale Land hereby give you my blood from my veins and the worth of my words and my magic of a spark as I promise to always strive for the right and the just, the natural over the artificial and the good over the evil. By the truth of the night, by the names of my forefathers, by my children yet to come, I stand true forever,” Stiles finished in his voice, loud for the whole forest to hear and yet close enough that everyone can hear the sense of conviction behind his words.

The wind flows more harder now, warmer, like a gust of breath from a dragon’s mouth and the sapling positively dances, rippling and twisting, the blood becoming the colour of it’s ‘skin’, it’s leaves lined with dark red and then it dips to the side and the stump suddenly crackles. Stiles’ smile is jubilant at the moment, his limbs weak as he bleeds out before his friends and pack. Derek’s eyes blaze alpha red as he too smiles, fangs jutting over the top of his lips and the blood that had slipped off from the sapling taking the shape of a triskelion as wide as the whole stump.

Stiles is steadily loosing consciousness and the world is growing dim, but he can still make out the sapling evolving, growing just before his face and Derek’ too looking with wonder as they both give birth to the nemeton again. Stiles doesn’t know when he falls down, sliding to the side so that he lies curved against the sapling, still holding onto Derek’s hand who is likewise lying down, his blood gushing out more steadily because of the stent and the wolfsbane and then Stiles unknowingly closes his eyes and everything is dark, silent and _nothingness_.

Distantly he hears the roar of a few wolves, but cannot ascertain if they are just hallucinations as he breathes in his last breaths or something real. Everything feels floaty, like he is swimming on air, faint movement lapping at his sides, but there is no sound and even that consciousness leaves him and he is no more.

**Author's Note:**

> In case it did not come through, the MCD was hinted at being temporary.


End file.
